Broken Song
by AllieKat626
Summary: She appeared like an apparition out of the mist. He hadn't seen her in years, yet there she suddenly was- singing in his new opera house. Then he realized this was not his Angel of Music, but someone new...
1. Chapter 1

Prologue- 1872

On one cloudy Tuesday morning, Monsieur Andre and Firmin could be found pacing around the interior of a bank.

"Are you sure it's worth it Firmin?" Andre asked, suddenly panic-stricken.

"I'm sure as hell not going back to the junk business!" Firmin stomped his foot defiantly on the ground.

"Scrap metal," Andre corrected, turning on his heel toward Firmin. "And it's never too late to go back. I think it may be more profitable than trying to reconstruct an _entire _opera house!" The tall man stopped pacing and scratched his chin, contemplating. His eyes widened, and he turned on his old friend.

"You're afraid that _he _isn't dead aren't you?" Andre took a step back, shocked.

"What? No. I never said that! God forbid he survived. H-he didn't, that angry mob lead by Madame Giry's daughter made sure of that!" Firmin threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

"Well then! There is nothing stopping us from building a bigger and _better _opera house that will, mind you, increase our fortune more than the junk business ever would!" With that Firmin stepped forward and took Andre's shoulder's, willing his friend to see what he saw.

"I can see it now." Firmin swept his outstretched arm in front of him and waved it around. "It's bigger and more magnificent than it's ever been before!" His gaze went off into the distance as he continued. "It has patrons lined around the block, practically throwing their money at us!" He paused, and his eyes lit up. "And the music Andre! The music! It's unlike anything I've ever heard! We will have the best Soprano and Tenor singer in the _world. _And do you know the best part, my dear Andre?"

Andre was staring in awe at his friend, completely immersed in Firmin's fantasy.

"What is the best part?"

"No Opera Ghost."

"No Opera Ghost?"

"No." Firmin came out of his little trance and stared at Andre.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think we are going to need to start looking for a contractor and architect!"

Chapter 1:

"Do you _have _to go?" A very sad looking eleven year old looked up to her big sister with pleading brown eyes, her front lip jutting out.

"I'm sorry, Clemence, but your puppy dog face won't work on me," Claire said, ruffling her sister's hair. Clemence swatted her hand away and just stared up at her sister.

"No means no! I have to go, I'm twenty-one and need to leave here. The theater is too small, and you know most of the girls don't like me." She went back to packing her small toiletries bag.

"But, Claire, I-" A sharp look from her sister silenced her.

"Look here, are you going to help me pack or just hover over me until I leave?" Claire watched her sister's face fall and shoulder's sag.

"Now, now, _ma belle_, don't be sad!" Sighing, Claire hugged her sister's small frame to her body. "Remember, you and mother are going to visit me, and come see my first performance. And, until then, I promise to write you letters every week." Clemence pushed herself away from Claire and looked into her sister's green eyes.

"You promise you'll write, and tell me everything that happens?" The young girl stared at Claire.

"Of course! In fact, I'm going to send you so many it's going to be like you're actually there with me!" Claire poked Clemence's nose before turning back to her bag. A giggle escaped her little sister's mouth before she started helping Claire finish packing for her journey to the opera house where she would be staying.

They finished packing in silence and then Clemence helped Claire carry all of her bags downstairs, where their mother, Angeline, was waiting. The tall woman immediately rushed up to her eldest daughter and gave her a huge hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" the woman said into the girl's loose hair. Claire returned the hug.

"I'm going to miss you too, Momma." For the first time since deciding she was going to the Opera Populaire, Claire felt a ping of sadness that she was going to be so far away from home. But a small voice in the back of her mind told her that if she wanted to be of any use, she was going to have to go and get over it. Quickly, Claire recomposed herself and released her mother from the hug. Claire looked over and saw her step-father, Jacques, and his twins, Denise and Nannett, standing there a bit awkwardly. Jacques seemed to take the initiative, walked forward, and put Claire in a stiff hug.

"Good luck," was all he said. While trapped in his hug, Claire peered over his shoulder at the twins and Denise, the taller one, stuck her tongue out at her, while Nannett waved goodbye with a mean sneer. Claire's face turned red while she watched the thirteen year olds hold their pose for a moment, before Jacques released her from his embrace. Claire felt terrible leaving her poor sister to the mercy of those evil girls. Clemence, who was now sitting in a chair near the window, pointed outside.

"The carriage is here!"

Claire walked up to the window with her bags and looked outside, and sure enough, a black carriage being pulled by four brown horses could be seen outside of their small cottage. After brushing a strand of hair from her face, and tucking it behind her ear, Claire strode toward the wooden front door and swung it open. Before she took one step out of the door she felt something latch on to her from behind, and turned around to see Clemence clinging to her.

"I'm going to miss you, big sister," she said affectionately.

Claire smiled and replied, "I love you, but I have to go now. I don't think the driver will be happy having to wait." Her sister let go and took a step back. As she was walking out of the door, she heard Denise ask Jacques if she could have Claire's room. Sighing, she walked down the cobble stone steps of their little cottage and to the door of the carriage.

The scruffy–looking carriage man opened the door and helped Claire with her bags, and put them in with her. She sat staring out of the window of the cab at her home and saw her little sister wave goodbye from where she was standing on the side of road. Claire returned the wave then looked to see her mother peeking her head from the window in the house. The girl blew a kiss to her mother then sat back in a more comfortable position in her seat. She quickly smoothed out the skirt of her dark blue dress then took her hair and tied it back with a ribbon. Claire sat in silence for a few minutes, staring wonderingly at the greenery outside of the carriage. Then she leaned her head against the window and drifted off to sleep.

Her big brown eyes stared into his with a blank expression, then slowly her features began to turn into that of pure terror. His hand automatically goes up to his face in panic, and he finds that where the Don Juan Triumphant mask should have been, there was only his scarred facial tissue. He looked at her for a moment, willing her to accept him. But his thoughts fell on deaf ears as her mouth opened into a horrified scream. But, instead of hearing his beautiful angel of music's scream, he heard a horrible shriek erupt from her mouth. It sounded _exactly _like that awful monkey from the dreadful gypsy circus where he used to be kept. He stared in terror as his beautiful angel's face slowly melted away to form a primate's face.

He looked away; it was just too horrible to watch, and suddenly he notice that all around, in a deafening roar, the audience is no longer screaming but chanting: "Devil child, devil child." Louder and louder until the only thing that rose above the noise was the loud thud of his heart and the sickening screeches now coming from a monkey across from him on the bridge. His face burned with anger, and his teeth ground together. When he looked down, he noticed his trusty Punjab lasso clutched tightly in his hands. He knew what needed to be done. Silently, he lunged forward and took the monkey by its neck. The screeching began to increase, if that were even possible, as he threw the lasso around its neck. He felt the ape's tiny teeth sink into his hand, but he was far too angry to give it a second glance. He quickly walked to the edge of the bridge and threw the chimp over. A satisfied smirk appeared on his lips as he heard the screeching stop. He closed his eyes and relished in the silence as the chanting around him died down.

He looked down to where the monkey should have been hanging with the triumphant smirk still on his lips. The expression was hastily wiped off his face when he look down and saw, not a monkey, but his angel hanging in a white dress. His eyes grew large as he was assaulted by a huge wave of sadness. His lip trembled and a strangled cry escaped his mouth.

"CHRISTINE!"

Suddenly, Erik snapped to attention in a wooden chair that he was sitting at. He looked around wildly for the body of his beloved angel, but Erik was no longer on the stage at the Opera Poplulaire, sitting instead at a desk in his lair. Erik slowly wiped a trembling hand across his clammy brow.

_Damn these nightmares!_

Sighing, Erik picked up four large ale bottles from a dark wooden desk and began tidying up the room, which had become a mess after his last drunken tirade. Black spots filled his vision for a moment, and a bottle slipped to the floor.

"Blast it!" he exclaimed as the bottle shattered. Groaning in annoyance, he bent over and picked up the shards of glass. It glinted evilly in the candle light of his lair as he looked at it. A thought flashed through Erik's mind—_To end it all, with this shiny piece of glass. _No one would ever know poor Erik's fate. He would fade from everyone's memory.

Erik quickly came out of those thoughts and realized it was an idiotic thought to end his own life. He hastily went back to work on cleaning up the place while still being a little hung over from the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before.

Claire was awakened by a sudden bump. She looked around and remembered she was in the carriage that was taking her to the Opera Populaire. She smiled besides herself with joy. Then her thoughts became more worried. She thought about the old theater and began to fret that there might be a girl like Isabelle at the Opera Populaire. Isabelle was one of the minor things that had made her want to leave. She thought back to the day she first meet Isabelle. It seemed like lifetimes ago...

_Claire, a small eight–year–old, sat off to the side of the room while putting on her ballet slippers. She had just learned to tie things properly so she was still a little slow and clumsy. After successfully tying her first slipper, Claire stuck that leg straight out in front of her and continued onto the next. She tied that one swiftly then got up and began stretching with all of the other girls in her class. The girls' teacher soon called them to take their places and started making them do their usual exercises. Claire was paired up with one of the newer ballet rats for Pointe work. She bounced up to the girl and greeted her,_

"_Bonjour! I'm Claire!" She waved and waited for the girl to answer. The girl flipped her blonde braid over her shoulder._

"_I'm Isabelle."_

_The teacher called on them stand on Pointe, so the two girls did. They began dancing, as gracefully as two eight–year–olds could, on the tips of their toes across the stage. Claire was excited that she had done almost the whole thing right when _it _happened. She was about to finish the routine, with Isabelle by her side, when she got tripped up by her ballet slipper tie. Time seemed to slow down as she began tipping over and falling. Claire crashed into Isabelle and now both of the girls were tumbling to the ground. Luckily for Claire, Isabelle broke her fall. The look that the new ballerina gave Claire after the accident was filled with pure hatred._

Claire sighed, and twirled her hair aimlessly as she remembered. Ever since that day it had been Isabelle's mission to make Claire's life horrible. Everything from rude comments all the way to putting mud in her shoes, Claire had experienced the evil side of Isabelle over and over again. After a while everyone eventually fell for Isabelle's snake-like charm and turned against poor Claire.

The girl looked out of the carriage window and watched the rural scene slowly melt into the streets of Paris. She let out an excited squeal when there was a bump in the carriage, signaling they had hit stone roads. They passed cafes, boutiques, and restaurants while navigating the streets. Claire's eyes twinkled when, on the sky-line, she could see the Eiffel Tower. The ballerina stared out of the window until she felt the carriage come to a bumpy stop. She looked outside of the window on the other side and saw they had arrived at the Opera Populaire.

The driver was soon at her door and watched Claire almost fall out of the carriage in excitement. He took the bags out of the carriage and put them on the ground next to Claire. As he drove away she yelled, "Thank you monsieur!" and then bent over and picked up her bags. Walking up to the huge front doors, Claire couldn't help but admire the beautiful architecture of the building. She saw the door open and two men hurried out. One was short with a curly head of gray hair, and the other was tall with a funny–looking mustache. They pushed past her without even taking notice because they were too busy muttering about something. Claire didn't take much notice of the men and quietly waited for them to pass with a silly smile on her face.

She stepped in the doors and took the entire scene in. She saw the gold statues adorning a stairway that led to some unseen place. It took her a moment to realize this, but Claire noticed the place seemed to look almost the same as the old Opera Populaire. Now, she had never been to the original Opera Populaire before the fire, but her mother and father had seen _Il Muto _and had been in the audience during the lead soprano's—Claire was pretty sure her name was Carlotta—famous Co-ack. Claire thought about her father and got a distant look in her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been standing there, but all of the sudden, someone tapped Claire's shoulder.

"Are you Claribel Bellenger?" Claire turned around and saw a stern–looking woman with blonde hair standing there.

"Um, yes I am." The woman rolled her eyes, seemingly unsatisfied with how long it took Claire to answer the question. The woman looked Claire up and down for a moment.

"I am Meg Giry, but you will call me Madame Giry. I take care of all the ballerinas and make sure they stay out of trouble." At first, Claire had thought the woman was stern and mean–looking, but now she saw it as motherly.

"Well, we can't stand here all day, so follow me Claribel." Claire began walking after her.

"First, I will show you to the dormitories, then I'll get another ballet girl to show you the rest of the Opera House."

While they were walking, the duo passed many workers varying from chorus, to carpenter, to stage hand. Claire tried to look everywhere at once, wanting to take it all in.

Soon they were climbing a spiral staircase and came to a long corridor that had two doors. In one she heard giggling, but the other one was quiet. Madame Giry lead Claire to the door that the giggling was coming from and knocked. From inside Claire heard a voice chirp, "Come in!" Madame Giry turned the knob and pushed the door inward. In the room there were about five girls, all in ballet attire. Some were on their beds talking while others were stretching. Madame Giry pointed to one of the girls sitting on the bed.

"Genevieve, you need to show Claire, one of our new ballerinas, around."

The girl jumped up and practically skipped over to Claire.

"Hi! You ready to learn about all the nooks and crannies of this place?" Genevieve flipped her brownish–blonde hair over one shoulder and grinned. Claire couldn't help but smile with the girl as she replied, "Sure! Where do we start?"

"Well, I guess we should start at the bottom and go from there?"

Claire nodded in agreement, then they were off. Genevieve started off with showing Claire the door to the basement under the opera house, but she wouldn't go down there and Claire didn't blame her. It looked more than a little menacing. After Genevieve showed Claire the dining hall, the audience, the stage, and countless other rooms, the pair found themselves walking down a long hallway.

"I saved the best two rooms for last."

She began leading Claire to the second–to–last room on their tour. Claire loved wandering the opera house with Genevieve. She seemed like a really great person, and Claire thought she would probably make a good friend. As she was thinking this, they arrived at a set of double doors that Genevieve swung open without a second thought.

"This is the prop room!" As Claire peered into the dimly lit room she saw masks hanging on walls, furniture strewn about the place, and odd props here and there. Claire was so interested in looking at her surrounding that she didn't notice Genevieve disappear. She looked about the room and called her friend's name softly. When there was no answer, Claire stepped farther in the room and started walking down one of the walk ways.

"BOO!"

Claire screamed at the top of her lungs as a mask came from behind one of the prop piles. She fell back and knocked over a stack behind her. She watched, still terrified, as Genevieve tore of the mask and began laughing. Claire couldn't help but join in, and soon they were both doubled over with laughter and had tears streaming out of their eyes.

"I-I think we should pick up the props you knocked over." Genevieve wiped the tears from her eyes and stood straight up. Claire nodded in agreement and started picking up the miscellaneous items. On top of the pile was a large bag that looked to have a lot of papers in it. Curious, Claire went to investigate. She picked out a couple of random papers and found that it was sheet music. Claire had been taught how to follow the notes and such at her old theater back home, so she decided to try and sing one. She looked through the different pieces and saw one that looked easy enough to follow. It was called _Think of Me_ and appeared to be from Hannibal. While Claire was looking over it, Genevieve crept up behind her and looked over her new friend's shoulder to see what she was reading. Seeing the music, Genevieve pulled away and said matter-of-factly,

"I know that song! Some older girls were telling me about how the last prima dona, Carlotta, was singing it when the Phantom of the Opera brought down a whole set right behind her!" Claire stared at the sheet for a moment curious about this mysterious Phantom her friend was talking about.

"What do you mean by 'phantom'?" Genevieve rubbed her hands together, eager to tell the frightening tale.

"A few years ago, before the fire, there was a certain chorus girl named Christine Daee." Genevieve turned her back to Claire and began wondering through the piles of props. Claire, wanting to hear the rest of the story, followed Genevieve, clutching the paper in her hands.

"Christine would take lessons from a mysterious figure who lived five cellars bellow the opera and wore a mask." Genevieve continued walking deeper and deeper into the prop room with Claire right behind.

"He loved her and became jealous when he saw Christine was falling in love with another man, a patron to the opera. He plotted on how to make Christine his and then one day kidnapped her right off the stage during a performance!" Genevieve stopped and looked back to Claire.

"And here's the interesting part—Apparently Madame Giry went down into the Phantom's lair and killed him! She even came back with his white half mask." Genevieve gave an evil smile then continued walking.

"Now it's said that his ghost is wandering around the opera house, waiting for a new student to teach. And he will take any unfortunate ballerinas who walk too deep into the shadows and get them with his Punjab lasso! ARGGH!"

Genevieve jumped at Claire with a scarf and wrapped it around her neck with playful laughter. Claire squealed and then laughed at how silly she was to be afraid of some stupid legend.

"Someone is jumpy!" Genevieve said teasingly. Claire rolled her eyes then saw she still had the sheet music in her hands. Her friend saw the paper as well and snatched it out of Claire's hands.

"Hmm, why don't you sing for me?" Genevieve gave the sheet back to Claire and looked at her expectantly. Claire sighed and looked over the sheet music.

"I'm warning you, it's probably not going to be pretty." Genevieve didn't respond and just waited for Claire to continue. Claire obviously wasn't getting out of singing so she took a deep breath.

"_Think of me, think of me fondly_

_When we've said goodbye_

_Remember me once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

_Then you'll find that once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you'll never find a moment_

_Spare a thought for me."_

Erik's head snapped up off his desk after hearing something rather peculiar. He could swear he heard Christine's voice! He jumped up from his chair and looked around, still listening to her singing. He walked towards where the voice was coming from and traced it to metallic colored pipes along the wall to the entrance to his lair. Then he remembered. Before Antoinette had... left she and Erik had set up small devices throughout the opera. They allowed him to overhear people's conversations and know where they were talking. Usually, it's a quiet bunch of rubbish coming out of the small pipes, but this time was different. The pipe all the way to the right had the voice singing from it. Not just anyone's voice, Erik thought, but Christine's! He almost stumbled over his feet, more than a little drunk, and went closer to the pipe. He pressed his ear as close as he could and listened to the angelic voice for a few moments. Her voice wasn't nearly the same caliber as it had been years ago, but that's to be expected since she hasn't been practicing with him.

_I must go to her!_

Erik dashed, as fast and as gracefully as a drunk person could, and speedily got dressed. His arms burned when he was rowing the gondola. He wasn't in the shape he used to be. Erik hadn't wandered this area of the opera in so long that the only thing that kept him confident he was going the right way was the metal pipe he was following. Soon enough he found himself in the flies above the prop room. He could hear her singing and drank in every word. He spotted Christine, with her back to him, and another ballet rat in between the prop piles. Erik couldn't stop the grin that came to his lips. _His _Christine had finally come back to him! He planned while listening to her sing.

First he would wait for her to be alone, then he would-

"_But please promise me that sometimes_

_You will think of me!"_

Erik was distracted from his train of thought when Christine finished the song. Her end note was good, a bit sharp and not pleasing to hear at all, but a few lessons would get her singing like the angel she was again. Her petite friend began clapping and yelling bravo, and Christine laughed and told her friend that it wasn't that good. Erik looked down on them then saw they were leaving the prop room. He would follow and wait for the perfect opportunity to show himself.

Claire was soon ledd to a big wooden door near the stage of the opera house.

"This is the unoccupied prima dona's room." Genevieve was grinning from ear to ear.

"There hasn't been a prima dona since they re-built this place." She looked like she was about to add something about it, but seemed to change her mind and just opened the door. The room was really big! The only bad thing about it was the walls were an ugly faded magenta color, but the rest of the room made up for the unflattering walls. The bed was gigantic and matched the walls. Genevieve got a running start and jumped onto the bed. Claire looked at her then saw a beautiful vanity table and trotted over to it. It was white with swirling designs all over it. Turning around, she saw something even more magnificent than the vanity. It was a HUGE mirror! Claire walked to it and put a delicate hand against it.

"This is probably the most extravagant room I've ever set foot in!" Claire stated with a laugh and Genevieve got off the bed and walked next to her.

"And the best part is no one stays in here! I personally like to come in here sometimes to be by myself and think, but this room is big enough for two." Claire realized she had already made a best friend, and she hadn't even been at the Opera House a day! Things were going much better than expected.

**A/N: Hey everybody! Thanks for reading my first chapter, it really means a lot to me :). Everyone please give my awesome beta reader, phantomphan2000 a round of applause for finding time to beta my work! Well, updates will be rather slow until summer starts and I get out of school, so sorry about that. But anyways, how did you like the chapter? I'd love to hear your comments and criticism in a review!**

**~AllieKat626**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom of the Opera.(Forgot to put this last chapter!)**

Chapter 2:

Erik followed Christine and the girl as long as he could in the flies until they hit the hallways. After that, he took to the tunnels and looked through the small vents set up in the halls to see where they were going. That girl needed to leave Christine alone so he could speak with her! Soon he saw they were going in the Prima Dona's room, and he stopped and took the route that would lead to the dark space behind the mirror. He shuddered thinking of his past experience with this tunnel, but shook them off and hurried down the passageways.

Once Erik made it to the looking glass, he saw the pair had already made it to the room. Christine had her back to him and appeared to be admiring the vanity. Erik saw her hair wasn't nearly as curly as it used to be, and she had gotten more curves. Seeing her this close now took his breath away. What would he say to her? 'I'm here, your angel of music.'? What was he expecting? Her to come back for him? Why would anyone come back for poor Erik? He realized that it was foolish of him to think she would ever come back for this disgusting gargoyle... Christine was probably just visiting Antoinette's daughter. The feeling of doubt and disappointment was crushing. He stared dejectedly at her as she went on surveying the vanity. Something brought her attention over to the mirror and she started walking toward it. Erik cowered farther into the shadows, for fear of her seeing him. She walked right up to the mirror and put one of her delicate hands against the glass. He observed her face, wanting to take in every detail, because he knew this was probably the last time he'd ever see her. Wait. His Christine didn't have green eyes! She had big brown eyes, like a doe's. This- this imposter had startling green eyes! On closer inspection he saw her face was more round than Christine's as well. He was angry at the girl, as if it were _her _fault he'd thought she was Christine. A snarl was about to escape his lips, while a voice in the back of his head told him to punish her for fooling him, for giving him false hope. She had brought her attention away from the mirror and began talking, but Erik was no longer listening; all he could do was imagine having the girl's neck between his hands.

_Damnit!_

Erik turned on his heels and stormed back down to his lair. On the way, he thought of what would be the best way to go about punishing the stupid girl. While pushing the gondola down the water ways he thought to his red death mask and black Don Juan cloak. Surely, he could scare the wits out of her with that, and for good measure he would bring his punjab lasso. Yes, it was all coming together now... He jumped out of the boat, almost stumbling to his knees, and took a large sip of the closest ale bottle; he was going to have some fun with this.

Claire walked with Genevieve to the girl's dorms and went inside. The small room was now packed with girls changing from their ballet attire to casual wear for dinner. Claire squeezed past all the girls changing and sat on her tiny bed.

_Might as well start unpacking_

Claire got up and began opening her bags. She took out her few dresses and stuffed them in the tiny drawers under her bed. She carefully took out the two books she had brought with her and put them in the bedside table's cabinet. Lastly, she took out her ballet attire and stored that in the drawer next to her normal clothes.

By the time Claire finished, the room was beginning to empty as the girl's all began heading to the cast and crew's dining hall. Genevieve tugged Claire's arm and started pushing ahead of all the girls still in the room.

"Excuse me. Make way."

Finally, they burst out into the hallway and began walking to the dining hall. They passed a wide array of people on their way through the opera house. Soon the duo came to a large pair of double doors that were open. Inside people were walking around and taking food from tables to the side of the room. The sound of people talking was almost deafening as Claire timidly walked through the room. Genevieve weaved through the crowd to the table that had enormous stacks of plates on them. Genevieve snatched two and tossed one to Claire.

"Every ballerina for themselves!" She laughed then slipped into the crowd to get her food. Claire stood there bewildered in the crowd of moving people for a moment. She didn't even know where the tables were! Claire jumped on her tip toes, to try and see above the tall people's heads. She saw the table and began making her way through the crowd. After almost tripping about five times, Claire finally made it to the food. During her tour, she hadn't really thought about eating, but now her stomach was growling like a lion. Claire quickly threw two rolls, a slice of roast beef, and cooked tomatoes onto her plate. Claire then dodged her way through the crowd and got to the tables where everyone was sitting down. She scanned the tables, hoping to find Genevieve somewhere. Right as Claire started to lose hope of finding her, she saw her friend waving her arms in the air and gesturing for her to join her. Claire swiftly maneuvered to the table and sat down next to Genevieve. Genevieve quickly introduced Claire to everyone sitting at the table. She sat quietly and just listened to what everyone was saying while she was eating since Genevieve was by far the most talkative.

"Have you all heard what the new ballet is going to be in a few months?" a blonde girl, Paige, asked.

Genevieve was quick to respond.

"Oh yes! It's going to be Coppelia."

Claire thought she had heard of it before. Something about a doll that looked real and a man fell in love with her. It seemed really interesting.

"What would you want to be in it, Claire?" Genevieve asked, trying to get Claire in the conversation. She looked down for a second at her plate, then back up.

"Um, well, I-I haven't really heard that much about it... Isn't it about a doll that looks real or something?"

Genevieve laughed and began to explain Coppelia to Claire.

"Coppelia takes place in a small village, where an old man-"

"Dr. Coppelius," Paige interjected.

"Yes, Dr. Coppelius lived an old broken down house in the town. A girl named Swanilda also lived in the town and was in love with a man named Franz. One day, Swanilda saw a girl through Dr. Coppelius' window reading. She waved, but the girl wouldn't respond, so she left. Next, Franz saw the girl and fell in love when she got up and blew kisses at him." Genevieve stopped, taking a breath.

"What he didn't know was that Dr. Coppelius had actually wound up the doll, Coppelia, and that the kisses were for him," another ballerina, Elicia, said.

"Swanilda saw Coppelia 'flirting' with Franz and became mad. After they argue and make up, Franz goes to the bar with some friends and Swanilda goes to be with her friends. Franz's friends harass Dr. Coppelius when he goes to the bar. Swanilda sees the doctor dropped his key so she and her friends sneak into his house with it. Franz sneaks into the doctor's house through the window." Genevieve took another bite of her roll then continued. "Swanilda and the friends looked around his house and accidentally turned on some of his other life sized dolls. They then found Coppelia in a closet and saw she was only a doll. The Doctor comes back into the house and then chases all the girls away, except Swanilda, who hides in the closet and changes into Coppelia's clothes. Franz by this point has climbed into the house and gets surprised by Dr. Coppelius. He takes Franz and knocks him out and brings out Coppelia, or Swanilda. Dr. Coppelius thinks he can bring Coppelia to life by taking Franz's spirit and putting it in the doll. He starts doing some magic stuff, and Swanilda plays along. Dr. Coppelius continues bringing her to life, while she is trying to wake up Franz. Eventually Franz wakes up and they both escape, leaving Dr. Coppelius sad and confused."

Claire picked at her food while listening to this great ballet. She looked around at everyone at the table and noticed someone was looking at her contently. He wasn't at the table, he was sitting across the room with a bunch of other men. When she caught him staring at her, he smiled and winked, then went back to eating. Claire's face felt red hot as she suddenly became very interested with the cooked tomatoes on her plate. She would need to ask Genevieve who that was later. Claire quickly tuned back in to what Genevieve, who was finishing explaining the ballet's plot, was saying.

"And then they all live happily ever after!" Genevieve smiled and looked around the table. Claire decided it was her time to say something so everyone wouldn't think she was mousy.

"So what are you guys going to audition for?" She smiled and waited for their answers. All the responses were either Swanilda or a doll in Dr, Coppelius' home. Claire didn't know what she would try-out for! There were so many parts, but she knew she would probably be cast as one of the villagers because of her being new.

Everyone began picking up their plates and disposing of them in a bin next to the exits. The crowd slowly began to thin and soon Claire and Genevieve were the last ones in the dining hall.

"Are you ready to go, Claire?"

Genevieve didn't wait for an answer as she got up and started toward the doors they'd entered the room through. Claire scrambled to get her plate and cup and scurried after her friend. They had just left the room when Claire began debating whether or not to ask Genevieve who that man was in the dining hall. They had rounded a corner in the maze-like opera when Genevieve looked at Claire.

"You look like you're debating about something. What's on your mind?" The kind smile on the ballerina's face reassured Claire it would be a good time to ask.

"Well... When you were telling about the ballet, I was looking around the dining hall and I saw a man looking at me across the room, he smiled and winked at me when I saw him."

"What does he look like?" Claire thought for a second.

"He had curly bronze hair, and he looked really strong. Like a backstage hand maybe?"

Genevieve looked annoyed as they started down another hall.

"Ugh, I know who that probably is. It's probably Geraud Fontaine." She shook her head while continuing, "He thinks he's so great and strong. Practically thinks he's God's gift to the world."

Genevieve stopped and took Claire's arm.

"Claire, if he tries anything on you don't fall for it. He's just an arrogant air head that has been with more women than all the other guys here put together."

Claire thought the man had looked nice, but now that Genevieve was telling her all this, she was becoming more weary.

"If he tries anything clever, tell me, and I'll show him what for."

With that Genevieve stormed off down the hall, leaving Claire very confused behind her until she began hurrying to catch up with her friend.

Claire followed Genevieve inside the door to the dormitories and saw that most of the girls were changed into pajamas and getting ready for bed. She trudged to her bed, the excitement of the day finally getting to her and making her tired. Claire changed into her night gown and took out her silver hair brush. Claire listened to the other girls talk amongst themselves and laughed when she saw one of the smaller ballerinas fall off her bed. She gently placed the brush on her bedside table, then snuggled under her covers and fell asleep.

Claire woke up to someone shaking her.

"Wake up, we're going to be late to practice!" Claire recognized Genevieve's voice and slowly opened her eyes. Her friend was standing over her, already dressed in her ballet attire.

"You have about ten minutes before you have to be on stage. I have to go, so you'd better hurry up unless you want to suffer Madame Giry's wrath!"

With that, Genevieve was out the door, and Claire was left to stumble around and slowly get dressed. After successfully tying her shoes, Claire dashed out of the room and ran down the halls. Thankfully, she remembered the way to the stage, or else she would have gotten lost for who knew how long in the seemingly endless halls. Claire scurried onto the stage and hastily joined the other girls in stretching. Luckily, Madame Giry didn't seem to notice her arrive, so she just joined in with the other girls. She saw Genevieve talking to Paige across the stage and thought it would be better to just stay where she was so she wouldn't stick out. Soon Madame Giry had all the ballet rats doing pointe work and practicing different routines. Claire had never done so many things in one practice and was ready to drop to the floor towards the end.

"That was a decent job today girls, but we still need to work. Be here the same time tomorrow."

Giry dismissed all the girls to leave after three and a half hours of practice. Claire began walking off the stage with Paige and Genevieve until she heard Madame Giry.

"Claribel, can you come here?"

Claire froze and turned around. Was she in trouble on the first day? Did Madame Giry notice her showing up a little late? Claire's imagination on all the ways she could be in trouble whirled out of control as the ballerina walked to Madame Giry.

"Yes, Madame?" Claire said in a small voice while looking at her shoes.

"Lift up your face silly girl, you look as if I'm going to spank you!"

Claire quickly lifted her face and looked at Madame Giry and listened as she continued.

"Now, I was wondering if you would like some extra practice. I don't mean to sound offensive dear, but I could see you having a little trouble keeping up with some of the other girls."

Claire's face turned beat red and she looked down again, embarrassed.

"It wouldn't be on the stage, there is a small room backstage that has mirrors and a piano, I think that would suffice."

Claire didn't even notice she was having trouble! She wanted to yell at the woman for saying such a thing. But, then again, a little help never hurt anyone... Swallowing her pride, Claire looked up and said, "Thank you, Madame, when would you like to help me?"

Without missing a beat Madame Giry replied, "Right now if you wouldn't mind, Claribel."

Claire wanted to cry out. She had just finished a grueling practice! She didn't know if she could handle anymore. But the look on the woman's said that she would not be pleased at all if Claire didn't do as she was told right now. Sighing, Claire nodded and began following Madame Giry to the ballet room. They exited the stage opposite of the way Claire entered, so she was completely lost after they hit the hallways. Giry led Claire to the room which had mirrors lined on all sides and a small piano in the corner.

"Now, I want you to start by showing me a grand jeté."

Claire went across the room and got a running jump, while doing a split in the air.

"Very good, but you were not in a full split. Try again."

The tired ballerina knew this was going to take forever.

By the time Madame Giry released her, Claire felt like her legs were going to fall off. They had spent the whole two hours perfecting her grand jeté and Madame Giry _still _told her it needed work. About ready to drop, Claire stumbled out of the ballet studio and began walking down the halls.

_Wait... I have no clue where I'm going!_

Sadly she realized that after walking for a while. Claire looked both down the halls and thought it would be best to try to retrace her steps. She began to walk down the ones that she thought she remembered going through. After a while, Claire lost hope and decided that starving down here would be easier than having to walk anymore. She plopped herself down in the hallway and began massaging her aching legs. After a while the soreness faded a bit, and Claire decided to forge ahead. Standing up she randomly chose a hallway to walk down. Could it be? Claire saw what looked like backstage! She started to lightly jog and almost wanted to squeal in joy when she found herself amongst the various backstage hands. Now she knew she could find her way back to the dorms. While navigating backstage, Claire felt a tug on her arm. She whirled around, wanting to hit whoever stopped her from getting to her room. She turned around to see that man from the dining hall staring curiously at her.

"Sorry for interrupting you, but I had just never seen you around here and wanted to introduce myself. I'm Geraud Fontaine."

She watched him do a small bow and thought it would be rude not to give him her name.

"I'm Claire Bellenger." She remembered what Genevieve told her and wasn't going to start a conversation with him. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Geraud." As she turned around, he caught her arm again and turned her back around.

"Wait, I was wondering where you were from. You look different than the normal ballerinas."

Claire wanted to slap him for taking her arm like that, but she just huffed and answered, "I'm from a small town named Macon in North France."

Geraud smiled. "That's interesting. Well, I used to be a sailor on _La Maîtresse_before coming here. I've sailed all around the world and have seen almost everything."

Claire thought it was interesting, but she was not really interested in talking because she was too tired. She took Geraud's hand and took it off her arm.

"That's very nice, but I need to go now. It was a pleasure talking to you." Geraud snatched Claire's hand and put a kiss on it.

"It was a pleasure talking to you too, mademoiselle." The look on Claire's face must have been hilarious because Geraud was laughing as he walked away. She stood there bewildered for a moment then turned around and quickly began walking to her room. That man was ridiculous! Who does that to someone they don't even know?

Claire was still infuriated as she stormed into the dorms. Upon arriving she saw that there was a note on her bed. She picked it up and read it. The note was from Genevieve saying she had gone out for a while and would be back in a few hours. Great. Now Claire was all alone with nothing to do. Oh well, this would actually give Claire time to write to Clemence! After she realized this, Claire hurriedly got a pen, paper, and envelope for the letter. She also picked up one of her books on the way out as she hurried to the Prima Dona's room.

Claire knew the way through the candlelit halls and hastily swung open the door and closed it shut behind her. She went to the little love seat and got to writing.

_Dear Clemence,_

_I got to the opera around noon yesterday, and it's been great! I made a friend, her name's Genevieve, and she showed me around and has been really helpful. All I did the first day was wonder around the building with her and then we went to go eat dinner in an HUGE dining hall. I couldn't hear myself think over everyone talking in there. The food was okay and I found out the next ballet is going to be Coppelia. It's looks so good, and I don't want to spoil it for you when you and mama come to see it. Today, I had ballet practice and am so tired as I write this letter. I practiced for a grand total of five and a half hours today and I can already feel improvements. I miss you so much little sister, write me back as soon as you can and tell me everything that's been happening._

_Love and kisses,_

_Claire_

Claire sighed as she signed her name at the bottom. There was a dull ache in her heart that the only way she could talk to her beloved little sister was through a letter. She closed the envelope and signed everything so that it could be sent off. Claire now laid across the love seat and took out her book. The book was about a man named Gulliver who went to a place where there was only people the size of his thumb! Claire thought it was extremely amusing to read about the miniature town and people. She would rather read fantasy than a romance novel any day. Claire thought that the romance was silly and that things like that never actually happened in real life. Some random guy was not going to swoop in and save Claire from tedious everyday life. The thought made Claire laugh and nearly drop her book.

Soon, Claire felt her eyes droop as she looked at the pages. She continued trying to read but just couldn't do it. She gently set the book down next to the couch and curled up, then went to sleep.

**A/N: I know I'm a bad authoress :( Sorry for taking so long to update, but I hope you liked it! If anyone was curious La Maîtresse mean "The Mistress" in French. Once again thanks goes to my beta reader, phantomphan2000, for fixing this chapter and making it pretty! Hopefully Chapter 3 won't take as long but I'm terribly sorry if it does! Please leave comments and criticism in a review.**

**~AllieKat626 **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Claire wandered around the empty streets of Macon. The day was dark and a thin fog covered the ground. Oddly enough she was dressed in her ballet clothes and had her ballet slippers on her feet. She was careful not to step in anything unpleasant as she walked the dirt roads. She passed numerous cottages before she realized something was pulling her down a certain path. The next corner Claire found herself gazing at an over-turned cart crushing a man. Claire rushed up and began desperately trying to pull the cart off of him, but it seemed every time she was about to get a grip on the cart the wood would slip through her hands like fine sand. She ran around to see the man's face and see how he was doing but when she saw him all Claire could do was let out a scared shriek. It was her father lying there under the heavy cart. His face was turning purple and she could hear his labored breaths as he was being crushed. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision because there was nothing she could do to save him. Claire fell to her knees next to him and slowly brought her fingers to brush his hair. Her body racked with sobs as she saw the labored rise and falls of his chest stop. She didn't see when, but the cart had somehow faded and now only her father laid in the road, dead. Claire hugged herself and silently cried as everything around her faded to black.

Claire woke up in the dim light of the Prima Donna's room and shivered. The dream had seemed so real... She could still feel her father's hair on her finger tips as she sat in the near dark. Claire put her face between her hands and sat completely still on the loveseat. After recomposing herself for a while Claire finally sat up and look around the room. She could hear nothing outside of the room which caused her to jump up and look at a small clock that was set on the vanity table.

_Two in the morning?!_

Had she really been asleep that long? It seemed like Claire only shut her eyes for a moment. Shrugging she decided it would be best to go back to her room so she could sleep in her bed. The door creaked eerily as Claire pushed it open into the dark hallway.

Shadows flickered on the walls in the dim light as Claire crept along to her room, the halls were really scary. Every creak and squeak seemed to be amplified in the darkness. Claire swore she kept seeing shadows of night creatures dance in and out of sight. Around every corner she expected to see something terrible waiting for her.

Suddenly Claire felt a hot breath on the back of her neck. Whirling around she came face to face with what she was sure was Death himself. All Claire did was stand there wide-eyed and shocked as she took in his terrifying stature. He smelled foul and loomed at least a head taller than Claire. His death's head had a chilling smile and the rest of his body was covered in a black cloak.

"Why did you come here you übler schädling?" Claire's mouth hung open. What did he just call her? He moved closer and pushed Claire into one of the walls.

"WHY?" He roared. Claire tried to form words but nothing would come out of her mouth.

"Fine then, if you won't talk there's no need for you to be here anymore." Claire saw him dig under his cloak and bring out a noose.

"Wait, please!" A tear came from her eye. "I-I'm sorry for whatever I did but please stop!"

Erik was seething with anger, looking at the girl made him want to tear her apart. He didn't even know why, maybe it was just the need to make someone feel a little of the pain he'd been feeling over the years. The feeling possessed him and took control of him. He wasn't Erik anymore, he was some monster that only wanted to bring pain to this defenseless girl. The only thing she was guilty of was looking a little like his angel, but that was just enough for him. Erik was done talking and threw the punjab lasso around the girls neck and began tightening it. The look of horror in her face only made him angrier. He ignored all her pleas and could slowly see her fighting it less and less.

"Angel of Music, why are you doing this?" Erik whipped his head around and saw Christine standing in a gown looking sadly at him.

"Who deserves this?" She asked quietly. There was a surreal glow surrounding her and Erik just stared, astounded.

"I-well she- she..." Erik trailed off wondering why he was doing this. This girl had done nothing to him.

"Let her go Angel, please."

His anger melted as he saw Christine's form fade away. He turned back to the girl and panicked when he saw her face was pale and she appeared to be unconscious. He quickly took the rope from around her neck and caught her in his arms. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd had another human being this close. He began contemplating on where to put her. Erik definitely couldn't bring her back to her proper room, he didn't even know where that was. It seemed the easiest place to bring her would be the Prima Donna's room.

Erik turned and began trudging through the halls to the room. Before he even exited the first hall Erik was already struggling with holding her. He knew the girl couldn't weigh that much, it was just that he was so weak from lack of doing anything. After what seemed like hours he finally opened the door to the leading lady's dressing room and set the girl down on the loveseat near the window. He looked at her wide eyed. Had he really intended to kill her? No, he remembered only wanting to scare her in hopes of making her leave... Then why did he suddenly become so angry? Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, he could feel the hang over coming from the alcohol he'd drank upon celebrating his brilliant plan to scare her off. Stumbling to the mirror he opened it and quickly swung it closed behind him. What he didn't notice was the small crack he left open in the door as he fled down the dark tunnels to his lair.

Claire woke up early the next morning in pain. Her throat was absolutely _killing _her. She walked to the vanity and looked into the mirror. She jumped back when she saw a red ring around her neck. What had happened last night? She didn't remember much besides the dream... Then she remembered waking up and walking in the halls, after that though there was just nothing. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she thought back to what had happened. After a while she realized it was hopeless and went back to examining the red ring. She flinched when she lightly touched the agitated skin, it felt like some sort of burn!

Claire examined the wound for a few more minutes before deciding to go back to her room so she could try to cover up the mark. She went through the hallways trying to avoid as many people as possible and crept into the dark dormitory. It must have been somewhere around four or five in the morning because all around her Claire saw all the ballerinas asleep in their beds. She stealthily walked to her small drawer and pulled out a bag that contained the make up she owned. She quickly dabbed foundation onto the wound, wincing every time the powder puff touched the red skin. Once finished Claire crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over herself and stared at the ceiling. She could feel her eyes beginning to droop.

Later that morning Claire woke up and went through the task of getting ready for practice earlier than the day before so she was a good hour ahead of schedule. She had no idea what to do with her extra time! With nothing better to do she picked up _Gulliver's Travels _and went to the quiet of the Prima Donna's room. She sat down on the love seat next to the window and opened up to where she left off. Claire watched as a white piece of paper slipped from between the book's pages and fell next to the mirror. Groaning she bent over and picked it up. Stopping mid-grab she noticed something odd about the mirror. The was a small opening to one side! She set her book down and examined the mirror closer.

"Hmmm, I wonder..." Claire wedged her finger into the crack and tried to pull forward. Nothing happened. She tried to push it in and got the same reaction. Trying to pry it open the mirror shut and there was a light clicking sound. Claire tried with all her might to push it open or slide it sideways, but it was obvious the mirror was firmly stationary now. She stared angrily at it wanting to know what was behind it! She didn't know how long she kept her pose until Genevieve came in and yanked her out the room.

"Where have you been?! Mme. Giry sent me to find you, you're five minutes late for warm ups!" Claire mumbled apologies, still thinking about the mirror.

Claire saw Mme. Giry staring at her through narrowed eyes as she timidly took her place on stage with the rest of the ballerina's and began stretching. The practice flew by faster than last time, and for that Claire was thankful. She left the stage hurriedly trying to avoid Mme. Giry and Genevieve, and began making her way to the Prima Donna's room. While she was busy looking behind her she bumped into someone ahead of her and fell right on her bum! Looking up agitated at the person for not watching where they were going she heard an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Goodness! I'm sorry mademoiselle, here let me help you up." Claire felt Geraud's hands' close around her upper arms as he lifted her in the air and set her down.

"Hello Claire fancy bumping into you here." She couldn't help but chuckle at his joke.

"So, how are you doing today?" Claire forgot about the mirror and began a conversation with the man.

"Eh, lots of moving stuff back and forth across the stage, hasn't been very interesting up until now, what about you mademoiselle?"

"I've just finished ballet practice and was going to uh..." His giant smile was making her forget what she was going to do. She remembered it was something important, then her stomach growled.

"Oh yes! I was going to get lunch."

Geraud quickly responded, "You wouldn't mind if I tagged along would you?" Claire shook her head and they began walking toward the kitchen. The more Claire talked to Geraud the more silly Genevieve's warning to stay away from him seemed.

Two weeks passed as Geraud grew closer to Claire and Genevieve drifted farther away. Every time Claire would pass her friend with Geraud she would receive a disapproving look and nothing more. Finally after one day Clair had enough of it. She stomped up to Genevieve and said,

"Please, will you stop!" Genevieve turned away from her and refused to look,

"I have no idea what you mean Claire." Claire's face turned red.

"I mean the nasty looks you've been giving me every time I'm with Geraud!" Genevieve turned around with her arms crossed and looked annoyed.

" I'm sorry that's just how my face looks when I see that man anywhere around the opera." Claire realized she wasn't going to be able to change her friend's mind by yelling, so instead she pleaded,

"Please Genevieve, I don't understand why you don't like him. He's been really sweet to me though and hasn't done a single thing to wrong me or anyone else from what I've seen." Genevieve sighed.

"Well, I obviously can't stop you from talking to him, and you can't make me like him so it seems we're at a stale mate." Claire didn't want to lose her friend so she decided a compromise was in order.

"Look, how about we both don't talk about Geraud anymore. I won't say anything and you won't. That way we can both be happy." Genevieve made a face but agreed.

Erik sat face down at his organ, thinking. What had he been doing in that dark hallway last night? He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a rattling breath. He thought there must be some other reason as to why he didn't like her so much. Erik refused to believe it was just him being angered by her looks. Now that he thought about it the only relation the girl had with _her_ was that they both had brown hair. Erik rose from his organ and walked down a small hall to a room that could best be described as his kitchen. Really it was just a small room with a primitive wood burning stove, a few cupboards, and a table with two chairs. He staggered to the cupboard closest to the door and pulled out a package that had already toasted bread. Now, Erik wasn't really hungry but thought it best to eat since the last thing he dined on was ab egg the day before. He sat down at the table with the toast and began to slowly munch on it and think. After being so close to that girl last night he remembered how much he'd missed human contact. He'd forgotten the thrill of roaming the opera as it's emperor, going where he wanted when he wanted. He remembered a time when he ruled this gargantuan building with an iron fist. Anyone and everyone at his disposal. He remembered hearing people's whispered conversations speculating The Phantom of the Opera and where he would strike next. No one told him what to do, and he ordered musicals to be performed depending on what he enjoyed at the time. A kingdom of performers at his fingertips. A devilish smile crept onto his lips as he wiped crumbs from the toast off his table.

He would have to begin reigning over his kingdom again very soon.

**A/N: Hi everyone! =D Long time no see. So here's a short summary on what's been up and why the next chapter hasn't gone up until now, school, acting, softball. Surprisingly these things can eat up your life and leave very little room for things like writing =( But since softball and all the plays a through for now hopefully I'll be able to start writing and uploading as I like. Well enough about my life, how'd you like the chapter? Why not leave comments and criticisms in a review!**

**~AllieKat626**


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